Black Eagle Slam Team
by Nate-kun
Summary: Coach Eisner introduces the Beagles to a new extracurricular activity. In glasses.


**When you see the outfits and your fingers are already typing.**

**Word count: 1008 words.**

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Black Eagle Slam Team

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"Um, professor...?"

"Yes, Bernadetta?"

"Why are we... o-outside?"

Byleth grinned. "It's a nice day. So nice I thought we would spend today's class outside, unless you would rather be indoors?"

"Please," Linhardt yawned. "I thought you'd never ask."

The Black Eagles were gathered in the monastery's courtyard, each one clad in a matching crimson outfit reminiscent of the colors of their house and the Adrestrian Empire, even their professor. It was, frankly, gaudy to an almost burlesque degree, so that meant Edelgard was in love with it from the moment she laid her eyes on it and no one could change her mind.

"I know what we are here for!" Ferdinand exclaimed, an eager hand raised. "To prove ourselves to the other houses that we are as adept on the court as we are in the heat of battle! _And to perhaps settle my rivalry with Edelgard if time permits!_"

"This sport is new to me," said Petra. "It is most unlike the games we are playing, _er, _play in Brigid."

"Eh, as long as it's not a test, I don't care!" Caspar laughed. "Uh.. There _isn't _a test, right?"

"Hopefully it is anything but a test of my patience," Hubert sighed. "I'm afraid I'm already at risk of failing standing here and listening to you prattle."

Dorothea giggled, giving him an encouraging nudge. "Oh, Hubie. What's the matter?" she teased. "Afraid you'll get overshadowed in front of Edie?"

"Ridiculous."

Edelgard covered her face in embarrassment, fingers already digging into her temples. "I suppose it would not be the Black Eagles if we were not so ridiculously uncollected and uncoordinated," the heir sighed. "Professor, that intense look in your eye seems to suggest you have much more planned for us than just a simple class outdoors."

"Nothing more than addressing the 'extracurricular' of your curriculum," said the professor. "Physical education is important, or so it says in my lesson planner. It also says swinging practice weapons around all day isn't the only way to hone your body, so that is why we are here."

"And the glasses?" Linhardt halfheartedly asked.

"I like them," was his only answer.

"And why are you also garbed in sportswear?" asked Hubert. "Don't tell me you intend on joining us."

"Immersion," said Byleth. "I'm your professor, aren't I? We're all from the same house. It wouldn't be fair if you didn't get to see my bare legs too."

Byleth quickly changed the subject before his students could spend any further time ogling the flawless physique he abruptly brought attention to. "But enough of that—we're going to be engaging in team sports if you hadn't guessed it by now. No tests, no studying, no writing, no picking up a pointed stick and trying to stab someone—just throw the spherical globule point-accruing device into the gravity-defying peach basket goal."

"Uhh.. _huh._" Caspar's mind blew a fuse. "How is it floating? Some kinda magic?"

Byleth rubbed the back of his neck. The girl upholding the goal gave him a nasty look and took that moment to remind him that he would pay dearly for forcing her to do such an uncouth thing. It was a warning reserved only for him, in both the figurative and literal sense.

"Yeah, something like that," he said absentmindedly. "Anyhow, this'll work on improving your focus, cooperation skills, and ability to make snap decisions in the heat of the moment, et cetera et cetera. It might even be halfway close to fun—depends on how things go. Maybe we'll challenge another house or something, but for now I'm going to split you into two groups of four. First to five points doesn't get to lap the monastery three times over. Understood?"

"Absolutely. I will not let you down, my teacher—even on the court!"

"I suppose I have no choice if Lady Edelgard is participating."

"_Ha!_ There is not a sport in existence that I've not mastered!"

"Oh yeah! I'm so game! Especially if there's no studying involved!"

"If you insist... though I'd much prefer to be indoors."

"I will be most surely giving it my everything, professor!"

"T-t-t-t-three laps around the monastery!? I-I-I don't think I can even manage one!"

"I'm a teensy bit concerned no one else is fixated on that. Linhardt, you better not slack off if we're on the same team—and if we aren't, please slack off."

"Order in the court," Byleth called with an underwhelming single clap. "Er,_ yard. _Courtyard. I'll be going by 'Coach Eisner' until six, as that's when Cyril wants us off the cobblestone. If there are no further objections—"

He ignored the seven hands that flew up.

"—then we're going to proceed to what matters most, our team name. I didn't really think this far ahead, so suggestions would be appreciated."

"Black Eagle Slam Team!" Edelgard suggested almost immediately, as if she had prepared it in advance. Everyone's eyes darted to her, and her face flushed as she realized she was alone in putting such instantaneous proposals forward. Fortunately, Hubert was quick to clear his throat and throw another name into the ring.

"Those Who Dribble on the Court."

"There's something about Beagle Squad that's getting me really fired up!" Caspar grinned.

"I like the name Wild Cats," Linhardt posited. "But that may simply be because of the stray that's wandered onto the court."

"I spy a mascot!" Dorothea cooed. "Bernie, be a dear and bring him over! He's going to need a name too... as well as a bath, possibly."

"_H-h-huh?! _Why do I have to do it?! I-it might be infected with, er, _something! _Something contagious!"

"It really matters not as to what we refer ourselves to, because unless it incorporates _Ferdinand von Aegir _it will pale in every way to my own name!"

"If the naming of our team is as long and outdrawn as yours, I am not certain _any team _will be wishing to be playing against us."

Unsurprisingly, they spent more time throwing names into the ether than the actual game that followed.


End file.
